


A Rebirth of Sorts

by Fooshi



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Crushes, F/M, Family Dynamics, Guilt, It's not catholic guilt but it is Seteth feeling guilty, Love Confessions, POV Flayn (Fire Emblem), Pining, Post-Time Skip, Pre-Relationship, Seteth/F!Byleth - Freeform, big spoilers for Flayn and Seteth's paralogue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-16 09:22:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29080053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fooshi/pseuds/Fooshi
Summary: When Byleth returns from her five year absence, Flayn notices that Seteth's relationship to the professor has changed.OrFlayn watches Seteth fall in love and figures it out faster than he does.
Relationships: My Unit | Byleth/Seteth
Comments: 3
Kudos: 51
Collections: Courage My Love: A Setleth Zine





	A Rebirth of Sorts

**Author's Note:**

> This is the fic I wrote for the Seteth/Byleth zine "Courage, My Love"! You can find more info about the zine on their twitter, @setlethzine.

Flayn first noticed it during those five long years of Byleth’s absence. The war tired her father, obviously. It exhausted him. But his days searching for Byleth exhausted him more than any day on the battlefield or in the war room. The manic energy he threw into his search for her startled Flayn. It rivaled even the fervor of his search for Lady Rhea, one of their oldest companions.

Eventually, after years of unrewarded hope of her survival, Seteth gave up. He assumed her dead. He held Flayn and reassured her that the war could be won even without the professor’s guidance, but the condolences sounded unconvincing as they fell from his lips. Both of them knew that Byleth’s worth did not only come from her value as a tactician, her prowess on the battlefield, or even her crest and connection to Sothis.

Seteth fell into a mourning period. Flayn and her father had buried many of their mortal friends over centuries. But Flayn had only seen Seteth mourn like this once before.

And then Byleth returned.

The day of her miraculous resurrection, the monastery was a flurry of activity. There was a battle, then wounds to be tended and a war effort to be renewed under new leadership and with more reinforcements. During all of this, everyone wanted a piece of Byleth’s attention. It wasn’t until late in the night, when Flayn was delivering dinner to Byleth’s bedroom, that she even had a hope of catching up with her one on one.

“...All missed you.”

Flayn paused just outside the door when she heard her father’s voice coming from Byleth’s bedroom.

_ What is my father doing in a woman’s bedchambers at this time of night? _

Flayn’s eyes widened at the thought of what he might be doing there, horrified that she might accidentally overhear some of it.

_ It would make sense, what with how he pined for her in her absence! _

Flayn almost turned heel and ran rather than hear something she’d rather not. But the hot tray of stew she held gave her pause. Byleth still needed to eat.

While she silently debated with herself, more bits of conversation drifted through the door.

“I can tell,” She heard Byleth respond. “All my students have been even more adoring than usual today. As have you.”

Flayn heard her father sputter.

“ _ Adoring _ ? I have not-!”

“You seemed relieved to see me. That’s a far cry from how cold you were when we first met,” Byleth said this matter-of-factly, not intending to tease Seteth. Still, Flayn could imagine her father’s face turning red at the accusation that he might have emotions. “And you have never sought out my company like this before, outside of a professional capacity.”

There was the sound of a bed creaking, probably one of them sitting heavily. Seteth let out a world-weary sigh.

“It is true that I am relieved to see you alive and by my side once more,” Seteth said. “Probably more than you realize.”

It was at that moment that Flayn decided to leave the tray of food outside of Byleth’s door. She would have many days to come where she could speak to Byleth, just the two of them. But for now, Flayn thought it better to not intrude.

In the following weeks and months, as the war effort renewed its intensity, it seemed that Byleth and Seteth were constantly at each other’s side. It would start with them speaking to each other after a war meeting, then the conversation would spill over into the hallway, and eventually Byleth would end up having dinner with Flayn and her father while they discussed everything from fighting tactics to religious texts. It was shocking to see someone as tight-lipped as Byleth and someone as firmly buttoned-up as her father be able to smile at each other and talk about whatever crossed their minds.

There was also the touching. They were small, innocent, involuntary touches that made Flayn raise her eyebrows nonetheless. Their hands would linger together when passing a document back and forth. Byleth would also sometimes place her hand on Seteth’s arm while they were talking, simply to get his attention or emphasize a point. The touch was casual to Byleth, but Flayn could see how it made Seteth’s shoulders tense, how he would stare down at the place she touched him in confusion and wonder for just a second.

Then Byleth got injured.

Flayn was in the backlines of that fight, healing soldiers as quickly as she could before they flung themselves back into the fray. She had just cured Catherine of a basic poisoning curse when she heard the distinct, shrill cry of her father’s wyvern. Flayn’s head snapped upwards and she saw the winged beast barreling through the sky, straight toward her.

_ This isn’t right. Father always insists on scouting ahead. He wouldn’t come back unless… _

The wyvern skidded to a frantic, ungracefully hurried landing. Its claws left drag marks in the ground as it struggled to stop its forward momentum. On its back was her father. He was seemingly unharmed. Thank the goddess.

Then Flayn’s eyes fell to the crumpled figure Seteth was attempting to keep steady in his lap.

“Catherine, cover us!” Seteth barked as he quickly dismounted. His attention never left Byleth. His hands were gentle as they eased her unconscious body down from the wyvern’s back.

“You got it,” Catherine responded and immediately dropped into a protective stance that dared any enemies to venture close.

“Flayn,” Seteth said, voice desperate now, “she needs healing.”

“I know.” Flayn tried to keep her voice steady and gentle even as her hands shook.

Seteth lay Byleth down as delicately as he could in the muck of the battlefield. He knelt down behind her, making sure her torso and head were leaning against his chest. Flayn could already tell that they would need to keep Byleth’s head elevated. There was a copious amount of blood pouring from her mouth and they couldn’t afford to have Byleth choking on it.

“Cyril dismounted to fight an archer,” Seteth explained, voice shaking as he struggled to keep Byleth’s unconscious body propped upright. “But a mage flanked him. Cyril didn’t notice. Byleth did. She jumped in the way of a curse for him and now she’s like this.”

“Like this” meant unresponsive, with blood smeared across her face and cascading down to stain her clothes. Seteth’s hands were coated in it, leaving red marks with every tender touch. He brushed a sweat-soaked clump of hair out of Byleth’s face and left a bloody smear across her forehead and temple.

“I can help her,” Flayn said, talking to herself as much as she was talking to her father. “I can do this. We have time.”

Holy light enveloped Flayn’s hands as she lay them on Byleth’s cheeks. She shut her eyes tight, focusing on what her magic was telling her, searching out the source of injury. She found the impact point of the curse and began to work at it like she was undoing a thick, complicated knot. It was an old sailor’s knot, congealed together with age and seawater. It was the kind of knot that would rather chip away at her fingernails than yield to being unwound. But Flayn persisted. She worked through rough layers of rope upon rope of magic until…

Byleth coughed loudly, abruptly, splattering blood across Flayn’s white priest’s robes. Flayn could not have cared less. These robes were already dirty anyway.

She flung her arms around Byleth’s shoulders and Byleth, newly awake and slightly confused, accepted the hug with as much grace as could be expected, still leaning heavily against Seteth. Flayn could feel her father shaking.

“What happened?” Byleth croaked miserably as Flayn finally withdrew her embrace.

“You almost died, you utter fool!” Seteth’s voice cracked over the last word. “You jumped in front of a curse! We have mages to deal with that! Mages who have been specifically trained to resist magical attacks! Flames, I thought you… You’re too precious for us to lose! Do you even realize how much you mean to… To everybody?”

It was only much later, when Flayn was safely lying in her bed the night after the battle, that she wondered why her father had not just said what he meant.

_ He wanted to say, “How much you mean to me,” didn’t he? _

The army took a long break after that battle. It was a not very well kept secret that Seteth was enforcing this long rest so that Byleth would have time to heal. But after the first few days of being bedridden, Byleth became restless. More than once did Flayn find her sneaking out to the training grounds. Of course, as her unofficial nurse, Flayn did the responsible thing and ushered her back to her sick room. But still, Flayn felt bad for Byleth. She could sympathize. She knew how it felt to be cooped up, disallowed from doing anything of import.

This was how it came to be Flayn’s recommendation as a medical professional that Byleth pass the time fishing, preferably with Seteth and Flayn to help her pass the time. Byleth was satisfied enough with the suggestion. After all, she was as happy with a fishing rod in her hand as she was with a sword. It was one of the many things Flayn admired about her.

The three of them sat on the dock together. Seteth was in the middle. On one side was Flayn with her head relaxing against his shoulder. On the other was Byleth. They were sitting a hair’s breadth away, but Seteth was purposefully not touching her. It made Flayn want to scream.

_ Put your arm around her! _ Flayn thought loudly in his direction.  _ She almost died, for goodness sake! _

They had started fishing very early in the morning. When it was time for the kitchens to open up and begin cooking breakfast, Byleth took the fish they had caught so far and went to deliver them to the dining hall. As soon as Flayn was alone with her father, she pounced.

“I am not stupid, you know,” she announced.

Seteth looked appropriately baffled.

“Of course you aren’t, Flayn,” he responded. “You’re an extremely intelligent, capable, talented woman.”

“I am glad you realize that,” Flayn said. “Because you have been treating me as if I cannot see what is happening right under my nose.”

“Flayn, I am so sorry.” Seteth’s sincerity was almost enough to make Flayn back off. Almost. “Please tell me what I have done to make you feel this way.”

“You have not spoken to me about Byleth! Not a word!”

Again, Seteth looked as though Flayn had just told him a particularly complex riddle.

“I was under the impression that I spoke to you about Byleth quite often.”

Flayn rolled her eyes. “And yet you have never bothered to tell me about your romantic relationship with her!”

Seteth gave an astonishingly accurate impression of the fish they had spent the morning catching, all wide eyes and flapping lips. Eventually he gathered his wits enough to say, “There is nothing to tell. We have no romantic relationship.”

“Do not try to fool me. I have seen the way you look at her.” Seteth did not respond to that. He only stared resolutely out across the lake as his cheeks grew redder and redder. Flayn raised a disbelieving eyebrow. “Truly? There is nothing going on between the two of you?”

“Nothing,” Seteth said plainly. “Our relationship is purely professional.”

Flayn couldn’t help but exclaim, “But you’re in love with her!”

Her words echoed across the calm water and Seteth gave a panicked look over his shoulder to make sure Byleth wasn’t on her way back from the kitchen yet. It was a good thing that it was still so early. No one was awake to overhear them.

“Do not deny it,” Flayn continued. “Like I said, I am not stupid.”

Seteth took a deep breath before speaking again. “I am sorry, Flayn. I did not mean for this to happen. But please know that I plan to never act on these feelings. You need not concern yourself with them.”

Now it was Flayn’s turn to flounder like a fish. 

“But why?” She said. “If you love her and she loves you, then…”

“It wouldn’t be fair to you, Flayn,” Seteth said, with a weariness in his voice that reminded Flayn of his true age. “It has just been the two of us together for so long, fighting tooth and nail against a world where we scarcely belong anymore. If I tried to bring a third person into our family, I can’t imagine how you would feel about that.”

“Maybe you couldn’t imagine it because you never bothered to ask me!” Flayn had raised her voice again, but she didn’t bother to lower it this time. “I would feel happy!”

Seteth blinked. “Happy?”

“Yes!” Flayn insisted. “I would be happy because you would be happy, for the first time in an age! Can’t you see that all I want is your happiness? Not to mention that I adore Byleth!”

“Aw, thanks, Flayn,” came a voice from behind them. Both Seteth and Flayn whipped around to see that Byleth had returned. She patted Flayn on the head and sat back down in her old spot on the dock. “I like you a whole lot, too.”

“Pardon my asking, but how much of our conversation did you overhear?” Seteth ventured cautiously.

Byleth shrugged. “Not much. Just Flayn saying she likes me. Why, what were you talking about?”

Flayn abruptly stood up. “I think I’m going to take a little walk, to stretch my legs. Brother, why don’t you tell the professor all about our conversation while I’m gone, okay?”

Flayn was barely at the end of the dock before Seteth was sputtering out words like “most fervent admiration” and “a proper courtship, I promise.” Flayn started walking away a little faster. They deserved some privacy, after all.


End file.
